The elevator’s down button lit up, and the metal doors slid silently open.
Light from the crystal chandelier outside poured in, catching Hawk and Natasha inside the car before they’d fully separated, and the two figures outside about to step in.
Tony Stark stood there with his tie loose around his neck and his white dress shirt undone three buttons to reveal his solid chest.
One arm was half around a blonde, blue-eyed supermodel with a killer figure, holding her upright.
Her cheeks were flushed an alluring pink, one strap of her gown had slipped off her shoulder, and her eyes were glazed over.
Tony stepped into the elevator with one foot and looked up, taking in the scene inside, especially Hawk’s hand still resting on Natasha’s waist and the intimate closeness between them.
He paused, and his signature knowing, roguish grin immediately spread across his face.
“Whoa…” Tony drawled, his eyebrows shooting up as his gaze moved suggestively between Hawk and Natasha before finally settling on Natasha’s stunning face and figure.
“Did I interrupt your…
‘deep exchange’?
The elevators in Lane Tower really are top notch.
Stark Industries made them, right?” He guided the model into the car, and the doors slowly closed.
The small space instantly filled with expensive perfume, the smell of alcohol, and an undercurrent of unmistakable tension.
The supermodel seemed even drunker now, leaning against Tony as she eyed Natasha with curiosity and giggled.
“Tony…
this Russian lady…
she’s so pretty…” She reached out as if to touch Natasha’s red hair.
Tony quickly caught her wandering hand and winked at Hawk.
“Looks like our boy Hawk landed quite the catch tonight.
This lady’s charm…
tsk tsk, far more captivating than the candlestick charts on Wall Street.” He looked Natasha over openly, his gaze full of the blatant appreciation of a womanizer.
“Mind sharing your number, beautiful?
Besides Hawk, there are plenty of interesting places in New York worth exploring.” The flirtatious look on Natasha’s face didn’t waver at all.
She gently slipped out of Hawk’s grasp, and he readily let her go, leaning back casually against the elevator wall like a man enjoying the show.
Natasha smoothed her slightly tousled hair and turned to Tony, her red lips curving into a perfect smile, with a hint of lazy provocation in her deep blue eyes.
“Mr.
Stark.” Her Russian accent sounded especially rich and alluring at that moment.
“New York is certainly interesting.
But I’ve heard Stark Industries stock has been fluctuating…
rather wildly lately?” She tilted her head slightly with feigned innocence.
“Just like those candlestick charts on Wall Street, right?
Studying your company’s stock chart is probably far more exciting than studying you up close.” She paused, then added, “Especially for a man who rambles on whenever he explains something.” “Pfft…” Hawk couldn’t hold back a low chuckle.
The smile froze on Tony’s face for a moment.
The “Russian businesswoman’s” retort was sharp and faintly mocking, and it hit right where it hurt.
He had just been teased in front of Hawk for dragging out that press conference, and now she was questioning his abilities as well.
That almost never happened during Tony Stark’s reign over New York high society.
“Oh?” Tony’s expression shifted in an instant as his smug grin slid back into place, and he fired back, “Sounds like Miss Romanova did her homework.
Then you should know stock performance works just like a man’s performance: wild swings are where all the fun is, while steady is just boring and…
over fast.” He gave Hawk a pointed look, as if certain the younger man couldn’t measure up to him.
Natasha was about to answer when the elevator jolted slightly as it reached the top-floor banquet hall.
The doors slid open, and the bright lights and noise of the party rushed in all at once.
Two people stood at the entrance.
Norman Osborn’s expression was blank as his sharp, hawk-like eyes swept over the four people in the elevator: a disheveled Tony with the drunk supermodel draped over him, and Hawk standing beside the instantly recognizable red-haired beauty, Natalia Romanova, the two of them looking close yet giving off subtly different auras.
Every eye in the banquet hall followed Osborn’s gaze to the elevator, and the room fell quiet for a moment.
Some guests even glanced at the two men’s companions, Andy and a grim-faced Pepper Potts.
Harry Osborn stood half a step behind his father, his gaze drifting across the crowd once more before landing on Shin Si-ah, who was standing guard quietly in a far corner.
She sensed his stare and glanced back coldly.
That look pierced straight through him, and Harry’s heart skipped a beat as he instinctively looked away.
Norman’s gaze lingered on Natasha for two seconds longer, as if assessing something.
The air in the elevator seemed to freeze.
Tony clearly had not expected to run straight into the Osborns the moment the elevator doors opened, and Norman’s scrutinizing stare especially got under his skin.
Reflexively, he eased the drunk supermodel in his arms a little farther away, just enough to look halfway presentable.
Hawk reacted first.
He slipped back into that flawless host’s smile, as if the awkwardness and probing in the elevator had never happened.
He stepped out smoothly and positioned himself in front of the Osborns, neatly blocking their view of Natasha, who was still inside.
“Mr.
Osborn, Harry.” Hawk’s voice was steady and warm, as if this were nothing more than a chance meeting.
“The highlight of the evening is just getting started.
Did you two miss any of the exciting auction items?” Norman’s gaze slid off Hawk’s face and settled back on Tony, who was coming out of the elevator with his arm around the supermodel, half holding her up.
The corner of his mouth curled into a cold, unmistakably sarcastic smirk.
“Exciting?” Norman’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried clearly to everyone present.
“General Ross just bid on something that looked like half a brass knuckle, which supposedly lets anyone who can do magic open portals.
But compared to your little drama, that hardly seems worth mentioning.” His gaze swept pointedly over Tony, Hawk, and Natasha.
“The CEO of Stark Industries walked out in the middle of a charity dinner with his date, then stepped off the elevator with Mr.
Lane and this…
‘Ms.
Romanova’?
That’s a far more exciting story than the auction.
It seems that elevator had a special…
Stark flavor to it.” Every word was barbed, mocking Tony’s womanizing, hinting at what might have just happened in that elevator, and dragging Hawk and Natasha into it as well.
The atmosphere turned tense and confrontational in an instant.